


come inside and talk to me

by peterneds



Series: fictober '19 [7]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fictober 2019, Gay Ned Leeds, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Ned Leeds Needs a Hug, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Podfic Welcome, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Vulnerability issues, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 14:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20996450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterneds/pseuds/peterneds
Summary: “Keep talking,” he mumbles.“You’re sure?” Ned checks.Peter nods wordlessly and Ned picks back up where he left off. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though you’re back now, I keep lapsing back into those bad habits or that - that feeling. And it angers me and makes me even more depressed cause why should I still be depressed about my dead boyfriend if he came back to me?”The word related to him still sends a chill down Peter’s spine but something about that last part keeps him hopeful. That he can fix it, no. That he can help? Definitely./title from 'talk to me' by cavetown





	come inside and talk to me

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompts: "You could talk about it, you know." & "I'm with you, you know that."

"Are you okay?" 

Ned is laying in between Peter's legs with his head on his chest, eyes closed and muscles lethargic as Peter runs his fingers through his hair. He doesn't know how long they've been here, and he doesn't really care to find out. Here, his worries have dissipated and his heart no longer feels so heavy. Here, he doesn't have to think about everything that's going on and going wrong, and he most certainly doesn't have to talk about it. 

At least, he thought he could get away with it. 

(He should have known better.)

Ned exhales very quietly. "Yeah, Pete, I'm good. Are you okay?" 

"You're deflecting," Peter says immediately.

Ned figures there's no point in trying to hide it now. "I hate you," he says weakly, one last attempt at getting out of the conversation he's been putting off ever since Peter came back six months ago. 

"I'm sorry that you'd prefer not to do this, but you don't," Peter says in the very special tone he adopted from May. Matter-of-fact and comforting all at once. It makes Ned want to curl up in a ball and just stay there. 

"I just -" Ned starts and sighs in frustration before he turns himself around and flops head-first into Peter's chest, sandwiching himself between his open flannel and t-shirt.

Peter laughs and at least Ned can still smile at that. "Honey," he says sweetly and begins to scratch at the nape of Ned's neck. "You could talk about it, you know." 

Ned shakes his head before he lifts it and presses a long kiss to Peter's lips. Distraction tactic.

"No," Peter says against Ned's lips, using that damned super strength and pushing on his shoulders until they're separated. "I'll web you up if you keep doing this," he threatens.

Ned says, "hot," under his breath, and then Peter really does web him to where he sits on the bed. "Fuck! Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Baby, please let me out, I promise I'll talk to you, please." 

"Swear it," Peter says, pulling out the Star Wars locket Ned got him so long ago. "Swear on my promise ring." 

Ned lifts his hand as much as he can to press his fingers to the locket. "I swear," he says, and Peter begins to de-web him. 

"Don't you think we should eat dinner?" Ned asks futilely. 

Peter looks at him disappointedly as he finishes removing the last of the webs. "No, after we have a healthy conversation about your mental state we can get Thai. Deal?"

"I guess," Ned says sadly. 

"Why don't you wanna talk about this so bad, huh?" Peter asks as he lays back and motions for Ned to take his place again. 

Ned exhales and doesn't think about whether it's quiet or not. "'Cause I think it's stupid, and that I have no reason to still feel this way or... feel a different way that stems from the same thing, I guess," he mumbles. 

"Can you tell me what that thing is?" Peter asks in that special tone again and resumes playing with Ned's hair. 

"Later?" Ned asks, and his weary tone makes Peter's heart hurt so much that he'll grant him that. 

"Okay," he agrees, "but don't try to get out of it, alright? It's as important that you talk as it is that I talk." He pokes Ned's nose gently and smiles at the little huff of laughter he feels against his finger. "What about how or what you're feeling? Can you tell me about that?"

Peter sounds like a therapist, Ned thinks but doesn't say, because it's just another delay tactic. "Um... depressed, I guess. Like, you know when you oversleep and it feels like you can't ever open your eyes wide enough to wake up all the way?" He looks up at Peter and he nods encouragingly. "Sort of like that. And, like, my chest and my head feel really heavy. And I have a hard time finding the motivation to do a lot of things or just to get out of bed in the morning. You know?"

Peter knows that exact feeling all too well. "Yeah, I do," he says softly. "Hey, I'm so sorry, baby," he presses a gentle kiss in Ned's hair and Ned feels like he could cry. It feels so good to be comforted, but there's a part of him that wants to fight that good feeling, and he doesn't understand why. 

"Also... it's stupid, but -" he pauses to take a deep breath. "I don't know, like, it feels good to hear you say that, but part of me also hates it? Like, thinks that I shouldn't need it or want it, or something like that. I know, it's weird -" but Peter presses a finger to his lips before he can finish. 

"It's not _ weird _, Ned. You're not weird, not any weirder than me," Peter tells him, and Ned knows what that means. It means he still loves Peter even though he hates the same things about himself. "I think you're just a victim of societal standards of how a man should feel and what they should want. And probably some complex-rooted issues in your identity as a gay man of color, and what you think you should be versus what you actually are." 

There's a long moment of silence before Peter asks, “hello?” 

"I am so in love with you," Ned says as he turns to face him. 

"Oh," Peter says on a breath of relief. "That's good. I thought I went too far." 

"No," Ned shakes his head. "Never. You're so fucking good at this it's scary." 

"Oh," he repeats. "Thank you, babe," he says, unable to hide his grin (or the blush rising to his cheeks, but Ned doesn't say anything, so he figures he's safe). "Okay, anyway -"

Ned laughs like he knows something Peter doesn't and so he asks, "What?" 

"Now _you're _deflecting."

Peter huffs. "Because it's not! It's not important and now we're getting off-topic again so I've decided that now's the time that you tell me what that thing was or else I'll kick you out." 

"May would never turn me away at the door."

"_Edward_." 

"Jesus, okay!" Ned relents. "I hate when you bust out my full name."

Peter bites back his smile. "I know. So, the floor is yours. Lay it on me."

"Well," Ned shifts back down into his position against Peter's chest and tries to swallow back his anxiety. "Remember when... you know - the whole," he gestures incoherently but Peter suspects what he's on about. Ned gently snaps his fingers before he lets his hand fall down on the bed and find Peter's to twine their fingers together.

"Yes," Peter replies as he rubs his thumb against the back of Ned's hand. It means _take your time_, means _I'm here for you, no matter what you tell me or how you say it_, and Ned understands it immediately. 

“Yeah, so, that. It was, you know, hard. Like, really fucking hard,” Ned’s voice breaks, but he continues on. "Like, that feeling - I’m never gonna be able to forget it. Or describe it properly. Nothing is ever gonna compare to that, and that’s what makes it so… fucking terrible. So goddamn awful. And it wasn't just the revelation, you know? That you were…” he doesn't dare say the word. “It’s waking up and forgetting. Like I can’t even tell you how many times I’d wake up and reach out for you. Or how many times I thought I’d hear your footsteps or that stupid thwip.” 

Ned’s breaths come in hitches but he’s not crying, Peter notices. His heart hurts with equal parts of both pride and pain.

“And it never got… easier, per se. I think I just became numb to it, I guess. I disassociate myself from that event, from those feelings, from everything that reminded me of you. And May -” Ned says and that’s a sob, those are the tears, and Peter presses reassuring kisses to his shoulder, squeezes his hand and wishes for guidance here. 

“May and MJ, and e-even, even _ Flash _ , and the decathlon, and everyone, it seemed, felt it. But May knew, and so did MJ. And them knowing reminded me, and being reminded made me hurt, so I pushed them away. And I missed them so _ much _ , Pete, almost as much as I missed you, but every time I looked at May I saw you. And every time I saw MJ wear a pink and blue pin I saw you. And every time I went into your apartment, it was like the building was on fire and I was choking, but no one else could see the flames. A-and it hurt, it hurt me so bad that I didn’t know what to do. Who could I talk to? You were the one who pushed these problems out of me but you were _ gone _, and -”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter interrupts him on a whisper. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” And he’s crying now, too, because he can’t believe he could cause Ned so much fucking _ pain _when all he ever wanted was to make him so happy he forgot what being sad ever felt like. All he wanted to do was help him through those ruts and hold his hand while he nursed him back to being okay. All he wanted was to beam with pride when Ned finally got there. 

But now he is helpless, because how can he live with this? How does he accept that? 

“No, no, why are you sorry?” Ned asks as he turns around to face him again, this time swinging his legs so they’re bracketing Peter’s torso, feet flat against the sheets. “Baby, you didn’t do it on purpose. I know you didn’t. Don’t you know that?”

Peter sniffles and chokes out a sob. “I know, but I just -”

“No,” Ned shushes him gently, kisses him softly. “Never in a million years could this be your fault. Never. Peter, you hear me?”

Peter shakes his head and closes his eyes because he can’t bear it, and Ned cradles his head and holds him against his shoulder and continues to console him.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Cry as much as you need, okay? Yeah?” Peter noses further into him and lets it rack his body. Ned will hold him together even if he breaks, even if he cracks and shatters into a million pieces. He rubs his back and presses kisses into his hair and keeps whispering gentle comforts until Peter can take a breath longer than two and a half seconds, and Ned smiles as soon as he hears it.

He leans back to touch Peter’s cheek even as his body tips forward to be held again. “Hey,” he whispers. “Hey, there you are, there’s my boy.” And Peter hides his very small smile at that into Ned’s neck. 

“Keep talking,” he mumbles.

“You’re sure?” Ned checks.

Peter nods wordlessly and Ned picks back up where he left off. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though you’re back now, I keep lapsing back into those bad habits or that - that feeling. And it angers me and makes me even more depressed cause why should I still be depressed about my dead boyfriend if he came back to me?” 

The word related to him still sends a chill down Peter’s spine but something about that last part keeps him hopeful. That he can fix it, no. That he can help? Definitely.

“It’s not stupid,” he says into the collar of Ned’s sweater. “And it’s understandable that maybe your brain and thinking patterns are taking a while to catch up to your feelings and real-life events.”

“You talk like a fucking life coach,” Ned says before he can stop himself.

Peter lands a very gentle punch into Ned’s cheek. 

“We can get you in therapy,” Peter offers, and the atmosphere changes. He can feel Ned tense under his firm grasp. “I think it could really help you, but it’s your decision, and I’ll try my best to be there for you if you do it or if you don’t.”

Ned groans in a put-off and serious way. 

“I just think it’d be quicker and easier for you to spill your guts to someone who you know won’t be emotionally affected by whatever you’re saying. Like, I literally had to threaten to web you and then actually _ webbed you _ to get you to talk about this. And even _ then _it was still a struggle.”

Peter knows why Ned’s reluctance comes out so strongly here, and he understands. Hell, he spelled it out for Ned a half-hour ago. It’s a matter of admitting you need help and dealing with that, not once but for the rest of your life. And it can be fucking scary. But -

“I’m with you,” Peter reassures him. “You know that. Right?” He asks and makes sure to put some space between them so he can look Ned in the eyes.

Ned smiles just so. “Right.” 

“Okay, good. Do you feel better now?”

“Uh,” Ned hesitates. “Not sure. I feel ready for some Thai though.”

**Author's Note:**

> another weird timeline where i didn't age ned or peter didn't age or something funked but iw still happened
> 
> is doubling up on prompts allowed? idk. am i not required to post a 31st fic since i'll only have 30 prompts? you let me knw
> 
> i love prompts and feedback they feed my soul! here's where u can find more of me:  
hcllnd on twit & tumblr  
ree182 on spotify for interwebs playlist


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